nightfall

the sun has died and
we have turned our backs.
if it weren’t for the vertigo
that keeps my head in stars
the night’s black, like wishes,
would fall upon us.
i keep the elements here
in these constellations
rearranged them to form
syllables that sound like
sisters, like hunters, like
bears, like a queen whose
vanity has turned her
upside down.

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About ky

Poet. Photographer. Writer. Goddess. View all posts by ky

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